Adhesiveness
by missashlee28
Summary: [KakeiSaiga] Destined together from the start their ending is clear enough. Two men, both with incredible powers, find that no matter how fast they run, the stars spell out something they cannot understand, but need more desperately than life itself.


**Adhesivness**

**Prologue -- Tainted **

_**Adhesiveness:** Propensity for friendship between persons of the same sex and sometimes signifies an intense, even passionate bond._

Kakei was nine when he had his first recollection of it, though it could have easily happened before then.

They used to come to him in dreams. He'd always been extremely intelligent, but it had taken him a great deal of time before he'd realized exactly what was happening.

It had started small. He would dream of days when it would snow and there would be no school, only to wake up the exact same scenario. He would dream of a fight on the playground, only to witness the scene firsthand the next day.

In those early days, his dreams were vague; the events normally seemed no more than a strange sense of déjà vu.

He was twelve the first time he knew for sure it was happening beyond his imagination. He'd dreamt with a startling clarity, down to the last minute detail, his father telling his mother he'd been laid off. That night when he'd snuck out of his room and down the stairs, he'd discovered that his dream had been startlingly close to reality--and not a dream at all.

It had been odd, in that moment, to realize that he'd been dreaming about the future. The possibilities of such a talent seemed unending. He'd already been a tad mischievous, though rather confident boy; to become aware that he had such a rare and unbelievable ability had been an extremely important factor in the development of his person.

The shrewd light in his eyes or the pleasant but knowing smile on his lips had sometimes worried his peers. He'd been a bright child, but had been too young to realize the consequences of such actions. It was an amazing thing that he could do; he knew it, but it had seemed much more like a parlor trick at the time. He'd used it as such.

When he was fourteen, he'd realized that his dreams were about more than simple things like the weather or conversations. They could hold the darker side of humanity; they could be about death and violence. He dreamt of blood and screams, but of people he didn't know. He told himself that maybe they were no more than nightmares, because before they had always been about people he knew personally.

But he'd been wrong, he'd later realized. Watching the news on television he'd found out that they were much more than nightmares.

Six months later, he'd felt like he was close to losing his sanity. It had been absolute hell, knowing that his dreams--it was at this point he would finally begin calling them by their true name: premonitions--were real and there was nothing he could do to stop them. He'd tried but his attempts were all futile.

Before he'd never told a soul about his talent, but he'd told his mother when he thought she could help him stop the killings. It had ended badly. He swore to himself never to tell another soul again.

By the time his fifteenth birthday rolled around, the premonitions of violence were rare, and back to the normal small things. His sense of relief in those days was great. He could not have taken much more.

When he was sixteen it started moving beyond dreams. Sometimes, though not often, a vision would come to him while he was wide awake. Slowly, he became aware that he would simply _know_ something, as though it was just a logical irrefutable fact. He knew his parents would have a fight; he knew that it would rain; he knew what color tie his professor would be wearing the next day.

When he was seventeen it moved beyond knowing just the next few hours or days. He would see things months or even years into the future. They were little more than just vague thoughts; never could he clearly see situations or happenings that far ahead. Of course, he had no way of knowing for sure at the time, but he felt it prudent to believe it. He had never been wrong before.

Kakei found it all to be supremely depressing. Wasn't the fun in life supposed to be in living it? It didn't feel like he was living anymore. He was just going through the motions of what he already knew to be inescapable actions.

When he consciously concentrated on something, most times he could see at least something of the person's future. With himself, he only saw black. He didn't know what that meant, but it scared him. Sometimes Kakei thought that fear was the only thing that kept him going.

It helped once he'd moved out and started going to college. Living alone, it was no longer necessary to hide his dreams or visions. He didn't have to watch every word he said so closely, to make sure that he never revealed what he knew. He didn't have to live with the imminent fear that his mother would make good on her threats of sending him away to some mental hospital. He blossomed without the supervision over him. But he was still alone.

When he was nineteen he'd dreamt about a man, close to his own age, with dark hair and a tall broad frame. He'd dreamt about his hands, the most gentle he'd ever known, touching his face, caressing his cheek. Whispering words he couldn't hear, but he could feel that hot sweet breath on his ear.

When he woke up he was shaking, sweating and the only thing that outweighed his fear was the almost painful arousal that he was feeling. What would it be like to let another close? To know them as intimately as one knew themselves? It was an alluring thought, but he always stopped himself. Because of his ability, he did not think it was possible to be involved in a normal relationship. He didn't dare to hope otherwise.

Kakei went back to sleep but woke up knowing he would meet the man while getting a drink at the nearby coffee shop. It was useless to avoid it. After all, Kakei had learned there was no escaping fate, no matter what you did. Sometimes avoiding it just made it worse in the end.

So he went that morning. He'd been there 20 minutes and was beginning to wonder if perhaps he'd been wrong. But it was a hard thing to believe, as Kakei was rarely wrong. Had he merely wanted to meet him so badly, that he'd somehow made himself believe that he would meet him this morning? It was possible, but seemed unlikely.

An hour later, Kakei had to admit to himself that it was beginning to look as if he had indeed been wrong. But what did that mean? Had he made it up? Or had he finally chanced upon a person whom he couldn't use his ability on? But if that was so, there would have been no way he could have dreamed of him. He must have been planning on coming to the coffee shop, but some force, greater than Kakei could have imagined, greater than his ability, must have interfered.

For once, Kakei didn't know what would happen. It was a thrilling emotion.

To Be Continued

For those curious, this definition most likely would not be found in the dictionary. It is a phrenological term, I believe originating from Michael Lynch. The reason I actually came across this word is through the poem "Not Heaving from my Ribb'd Breast Only" by Walt Whitman. After reading the poem, I immediately knew it would be the perfect title for this. The footnote in my edition of _Leaves of Grass_ gives me the definition.


End file.
